


Bucket List

by Semi_problematic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bucket List, First Kiss, Homophobic John Winchester, M/M, Sad with a Happy Ending, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 15:48:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16021067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_problematic/pseuds/Semi_problematic
Summary: Dean kissed Sam until he forgot what it felt like to not kiss Dean.





	Bucket List

For the most part the motel room was clean. There were still mysterious stains that littered the carpets and chipping paint, but other than that it was okay. No evidence that the Winchester's had been there. That was just the way John liked it, too. Dean had been packing for hours. Cleaning fingerprints away and checking once, twice, three times under tables, beds and couches. Sam was at school and John was God knows where. It ticked Dean off that no one ever stayed to help him, for years he had been the only one that stayed to clean up. He was 22 now, and Sam was 18, more than capable enough to help him. Then again, Dean liked it this way. He had made disappearing a fine art. No one could do it better than he did.

By the too thin door was all of their bags. Duffle bags and small suit cases. A few backpacks, too, beat up ones they got from the dollar store when they picked up extra supplies. The beds were made and the soaps from the bathroom were snagged and in Deans jacket pocket. The kitchen was empty, the four chairs scooted in beneath the table. Food was in the cooler, but there was hardly any. John was good at making sure they barely scraped by. Dean was sure he would never underatand the feeling of living comfortable. John liked it that way. Their stomachs empty and their bodies tired. Never comfortable. Never safe. 

Sam despised the way they lived. He would fight tooth and nail to have a normal life. Dean accepted it but Sam rejected it. Said John raised them like soldiers and not like children. Dean didn't like how they were raised either, but there was no changing it now. He learned early on that it was a lot easier to just go with it. No fighting. No standing up. If Dean obeyed he wasn't hit or yelled at. If Dean obeyed things were easier. Sam didn't like having it the easy way, he liked having it the right way.  

It had been tense lately. Sam came out as gay by bringing his boyfriend to dinner. It was petty and selfish, but Dean understood why. Sam was tired of living under Johns thumb. He was his own person, not a pawn in some game. John screamed at them both. Insulted them and took dinner from them. The boy left and finally, Sam screamed back. Dean had to get between them and send John out. After about an hour, the motel room was silent and they were both in bed. That was when he heard Sam crying. For once in a long while, they held each other.

Sam and John had been at each other's throats for years. Ever since Sam turned fourteen and started thinking for himself hes been pissed at him. John used to try and make it up to him. He bought Sam presents and took him to book stores, but after two years he gave up. That only ticked Sam off more. Every fight they had was loud and tense with Dean always caught in the middle. He loved them both, but he always ended up siding with John. That way they weren't punished. Sam knew, though, he knew Dean didn't mean anything he told John. If only that didn't piss him off. 

Sam had an obsession with being normal. Having friends and sleepovers and getting good grades. He had an idea of having a perfect life. A picket fence and a two story house. Going to college and having a job. A real job is what he would call it. That pissed Dean off. Their job was real. It didn't pay them and the work never felt like enough, but they saved peiple like fire fighters and police. Their job was just as needed and important. It just wasn't the perfect life for Sam.

Dean would be lying if he said it didn't hurt. Sam being unhappy tore him apart. Dean tried, he really did, but it wasn't good enough. No amount of movie nights and birthday celebrations would make Sam happy. Nothing could make Sam love the life they had. He wanted to be free, but Dean couldn't let him. Escaping the hunting life was impossible and damage had been done. Sam never got to go to dances or go on dates, he was the freak and that fed his dream of being normal. If he wasn't a hunter, he wouldn't be a freak. There was a tragic truth, though, a truth Sam didn't know. Once someone is a hunter, they always will be. Gettiny a degree and a family won't stop monsters. Only weapons. 

Dean wasn't snooping when he found what he did. There was still an hour before Sam would come home which meant two hours until John arrived. He was bored and wanted to do something. So, like any annoying older brother, he went through Sams backpack. Not his school one, but the one that kept his books and notebooks in. Sam had kept a diary for years, except every time Dean called it that his face turned bright red. It was his journal, that's what he called it, and he wrote in it during every long car ride and after every first day of school. The notebook probably knew more about Sam than Dean would like to admit.

The composition book was nearly falling apart. Loose pages fell out when Dean pulled it out of the bag, the color on the front was fading and the pages were bent and torn. The cover of the book itself was torn apart and doodled on relentlessly. It was almost impossible to see what the original pattern was. 

Dean turned through the first few pages, chewing on his lip. Various dates from last year were scribbled onto the top of each page. Sam had written about his teachers and his fight with dad. He skipped those. Dean was there for most of it and to be honest, most of it was boring. It wasn't until Dean got to a page that was folded in half. A page that didn't fit.

Dean unfolded it and looked at it. The date was from three years ago. At the top of the page was a title. Bucket List. It wasn't Sams ambitions or rants. These were his dreams. His simple dreams. Most would write about skydiving or seeing the Grand Canyon, but Dean knew Sam better than that. The things written down would be oddly tame. Things that most kids don't care about, not when they're eighteen. All Sam wanted was to be normal, but this list proved he was far from it.

John had made it very clear that hunters don't live long. Dean was raised on knowing that any hunt could be his last. Sleeping with one eye open was considered normal and setting traps before you go to bed was ritual. Being a hunter was an automatic death wish no matter how trained you are. Sam was always afraid of that. He cried to Dean on the phone over a thousand times about how scared he was. That was the only reason Sam went on hunts anymore. If they died, they were dying together. He didn't want Dean to be forgotten. 

The first thing on the list was to see the ocean. No matter how many hunts they had been on, they had never been to the ocean. John didn't believe in vacations, either. Bobby did, but Bobby couldn't take them that far away. He had other hunters and cases to work on. 

The next thing was fall in love. It was a normal teenage wish, so Dean glossed over it, until he saw the parentheses next to it. Inside of them was one word. "Together." Several names were listed after it. Dylan. Jacob. Ethan. Jordan. Dean could feel his heart breaking. His brother had fallen in love, but no one had ever felt the same. Suddenly, all the times Sam came home with tear stained cheeks made since. He wasn't at the library. He was out with a boy. A boy that he loved but had never loved him. 

Dean took a deep breath and continued to go down the list. Next was simple. Get married. Dean had no doubt in his mind that Sam would ever get married. Sam was bullied and no one ever really wanted to date him, not openly anyway. Sam believed that he was a loser. A freak that no one could love. Dean tried relentlessly to prove to Sam that he was amazing, but it never worked. The bad stuff always outweighed the good.

The fourth on the list was easy. Be kissed. Except, it wasn't so easy. Next to the item was a list of numbers that were scratched out. 15. 16. 17. Each number was scribbled out in led so dark that Dean could hardly make it out. Sam had never had his first kiss. 18 was the last number listed and had yet to be scratched out. 

Under that was the most heartbreaking item so far. Hold hands. Dean and Sam had held hands a million times, but this was different. This wasn't holding hands to cross the road. It was holding hands at a movie or holding hands while you walk home. Sam had never held hands with someone he had a crush on.

Dean tensed when he heard the door knob jiggling. Sam must have skipped home room. He closed the book but kept the paper out, zipping the backpack up. Dean walked towards the couch, flopping down against it. "Clean the door knob."

"Right." Sam sighed. "We're leaving... again."

"I thought that attitude would be gone by now." Dean smirked, looking up at Sam.

Sams bag slammed into the ground. "Don't hold your breath." He pulled out a small cloth from his bag and reached down, wiping the door knob down. "What are you reading?"

"Nothing."

"You know, I almost forgot you knew how to read-"

"Do the words "bucket list" mean anything to you?" Dean held the paper up, a wide grin spreading across the face. 

"Dean." Sam slammed the door shut. "Where did you find that?" He strode towards Dean, his hands curling into fists. "It doesn't matter, I don't care- just... give me it."

"No." Dean replied plainly. "It's cute. I think I'm gonna keep it."

"It's not funny, Dean." Sam grabbed Deans wrist, careful to avoid grabbing the paper and tearing it. "Give me it."

"You don't scare me."

"This isn't about being scary, this is about you being an asshole brother and going through my shit." 

"Wow, someone's pissy-"

"Give me it." With one tug, Sam pulled Dean to the ground. "This isn't some joke! Its personal."

Dean pulled Sam to the ground, climbing on top of him and pinning him down. "No." 

"Dean." Sam was speaking softer now. "Just... give me it. I know you think that stuff is dumb but... I don't know. It... it's not to me. Okay?" 

"You've never been kissed." 

"Dean." Sam pushed up against his hands. "Don't rub it in. I get it, okay? I'm a freak and no one wants to kiss me. Ha ha. Funny." 

"Sam-"

"Just give me the damn paper. It's none of your buisness and all you've done is make me feel like cra-"

Dean cut Sam off with a kiss. For a few seconds Sam was frozen, but then he relaxed. He stopped trying to push Dean away and started trying to touch him, trying to pull him closer. Dean deepened the kiss, dropping the paper next to them.

He was the first to pull away, breathing softly. "Was that alright?" He asked, biting his lip.

Sam stared up at him, slowly nodding. "Yeah..." He put his hand on the back of Deans neck and pulled him down, kissing him again. "It was perfect." 

"Let's knock another out then, yeah?" Dean intertwined their fingers and kissed Sam again. And again. And again. 

Dean kissed Sam until he forgot what it felt like to not kiss Dean.


End file.
